He's the Reason for the Teardrops on My Guitar
by Meredith Trainor
Summary: Drarry ficlet... Harry mysteriously receives a black and green wooden guitar, what is this magical instrument, and why does it invoke those hidden feelings for a certain Slytherin? SLASH song-ficlet to Taylor Swift's "Teardrops on my Guitar" set in HBP


_**He's the Reason for the Teardrops on my Guitar: A Drarry Ficlet**_

A/Note: This is SLASH! Don't like, don't read! Drarry goodness, with a Musical!Harry and a Secretive!Draco. My favorites. To Taylor Swift's Teardrops on my Guitar. Oneshot at the beginning of HBP.

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Late last night, Ron Weasley looked over across the dormitory to find that his green-eyed mate was not there. Without another thought, he rolled over in bed.

In another room, the girls' dormitory, Hermione Granger awoke to a strange sound. It sounded like a guitar string being accidentally hit, but that was ludicrous. She assumed she was dreaming and fell back to sleep, dreaming of a certain redhead who slept a mere wall over, and dreamt a similar, reciprocal dream. 3 for R/Hr.

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In the hallway outside the Gryffindor Common Room, a certain dark-haired wizard we've all come to love sat bent over his recently acquired, magical guitar. It was black with green trim and had appeared somehow on his bed with a note on which was written, "Use often" along with some simple sheet music. Well, being the stunningly talented sorcerer that he was, it had taken Harry no more than a week to learn. So underneath his father's Invisibility Cloak, he ventured out to find a peaceful place to play his guitar. Of course, it was the dead of night, and no one was lurking about the corridors, so there was no need to put a Muffliato spell on the immediate area, but Harry used the Cloak all the same. As his fingers strummed the familiar chords, he realized he wanted something deeper to play. And then, with magic similar to that of the Room of Requirement, the guitar provided. A sweet new melody; and all Harry had to do was create some words.

All he had to do?? This music was golden, what could he possibly sing along to it? All the songs he knew were stupid Muggle love songs, and what did he, a sixteen-year-old wizard, know about love? So he just sang about what had happened that day, the fresher thoughts on his mind… straight from his morning Potions lesson.

"_Dray looks at me… I fake a smile so he won't see_" He had smiled, proudly, and with a smirk that rivaled the Ice Prince of Slytherin. This part was good, so he continued singing into the silence.

"_What I want, and I need, and everything that we should be._" Now he was getting into deeper territory. Everything that they should be? What if he had said YES as a first-year? What could have changed? Maybe he wouldn't be sitting here along, on a cold marble floor, pouring his heart out into a mysterious guitar. The thought made him sick with envy.

"_I'll bet she's beautiful, that girl he talks about_" Well, not that Draco had mentioned a girl, exactly, but everyone else mentioned it, and quite often. Pansy Parkinson. Ugh! She wasn't good enough… Am I? The question stung his eyes.

"_And she's got everything that I have to live without!_" The smiles, however fake or genuine, were beautiful, the touch, even when Draco's hand accidentally slipped over their cauldron: his hands were so warm on Harry's own, that it was like he was on fire. It was unfair that he was all wasted on Parkinson, the bitch!

The Gryffindor fought tears, and he didn't know why.

"_Dray talks to me, and I laugh 'cause it's just so funny_," Even an insult, a caustic remark, Draco could make into poetry. Just his name, "Potter" sounded like running water. He had laughed, and Draco was taken aback. "What?" He'd said, not angry, just curious, and Harry could only smile and say, "No, nothing."

"_That I can't even see, anyone when he's with me_," It was true enough, Draco was the only visible person to Harry. Hermione spent fifteen minutes shouting Harry's name before Draco said sarcastically, "Are you and your girlfriend having a fight?" To which Harry replied, "What girlfriend?" Smooth, Harry…

"_He says he knows the way, he's finally got it right_," Thank Merlin that Draco was so brilliant, or they'd still be working on that insane potion. That was the first O Harry ever got in Snape's class, and Draco gave him full credit. Thinking of it, Harry blushed. He'd spent more time staring at Draco than working.

"_I wonder if he knows he's all I think about at night!_" Well, he hadn't meant to sing it **that** loud, but it was true. Strange, to finally voice everything that he'd kept silent for weeks. Surely Draco would never find out, so what was the point? A tear welled in that clear green eye.

"_He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar!_" Sure enough, they rained down now, a silent flood on the black wood, and Harry didn't try to stop them. Real men cry every now and again, he reasoned.

"_The only thing that keeps me wishin' on a wishing star_," In astronomy, when they'd studied Draco's namesake, Harry made a wish. Honestly he never dared to hope that anything would happen, but then again, he'd never hoped to be a wizard, or finally have best friends, had he? There was always hope.

"_He's the song, on my lips, I keep singing, don't know why I do_," The real reason was that if he didn't sing it now, didn't confess everything to his mute instrument, he was sure to crack. Every minute spent Draco was torture. All the "Malfoy" and "Potter" was enough to kill him, even when Voldemort couldn't.

"_Dray walks, by me_," A sound in the hallway, but Harry didn't think to stop singing. Damn it all, he didn't care anymore! His vision was still blurry, but somehow the music came, uncalled for, but unquestionably true.

"_Can he tell that I can't breathe?_" Why couldn't Harry breathe? The guitar was running it, somehow, he drew breath, in a long, ragged sigh, that sounded like "Ahhh."

"_And there he goes, so perfectly_," But there was no bitterness, just a longing, in Harry's voice.

"_The kind of flawless I wish I could be!_" Jealousy, yes, but there was also something much stronger, and much more comforting.

"_She better hold him tight, give him all her love_," Now there WAS bitterness, and a slight mania, as Harry gripped the beloved guitar tighter. Now he was sure someone was listening. So what? He was dead already.

"_Look in those beautiful eyes, and know she's lucky 'cause!_" He did have beautiful eyes, so why was Harry seeing them right now, right in front of him? He had to be imagining things. But even so, whenever Harry imagined Draco's eyes, they looked scalding hot, not calm and caring like these, though they were unmistakably the same pair.

"_He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar_," He wasn't singing alone. A veil dropped, and he saw Draco's mouth, too, moving in synch with his, as if he had practiced the harmony.

"_The only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star_." Harry felt invisible hands slide off his own Invisibility Cloak, and he didn't care whether it was a dream or not. If he was crazy, so be it: he never wanted the song to end.

"_He's the song, on my lips, I keep singing, don't know why I do_." But that gorgeous head was getting closer. Harry's heart skipped a couple of beats.

The music continued, without any words, and Harry studied the peaceful expression on his face, his eyes, his lips! "Ahh…" Harry was really sighing now.

"_He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar_," Draco sang much better than Harry, but the contrast was kind. They made a perfect pair. Draco was sweating? No, he couldn't be, this was all a dream.

"_The only one who's got enough of me to break my heart!_" Both boys sang out pitifully to each other, and Harry began to wish this dream would end, if only to stop taunting him with what he could never have. Surprisingly, it wasn't Harry who sighed, but the ghost Draco.

"_He's the time taken up, but there's never enough!_" Could he stop the daylight? Oh, if he could wake up to find Draco here with him…

"And he's all that I need to fall into…" And with this, the guitar fell from Harry's hands and into Draco's lap as the boy was pushed into Draco. His lips crushed the softer, light ones, and the grey eyes lit up. What a rush! He'd never had a dream like this. And when the pale, white hands found the back of Harry's neck, he began to think that maybe this wasn't a dream. Maybe, just maybe, he could dare to open his eyes.

"Harry…" And his real-life dream was complete. This was the best night of Harry's life. And now he knew it never had to end. Here in Draco's arms, he knew the reason for the teardrops on his guitar.

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A/Note: You know the deal: Rate and review, or I'll release my army of H/Hr shippers! Bwahahahaha! 


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